


Sanctity

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment with sleeping DA members.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanctity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaellite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaellite/gifts).



> A/N: Drabble for a Dom!Nev/younger-boy request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s so dark in here, pitch black without windows, not even the fake ones like in some of the dungeons, jinxed to look like the stars. There’s an oil lamp on the far wall still lit, all the others out. This room is secure, hidden, sacred. The only one the Death Eaters have no key to, the only one where they’re _safe_.

But it’s just a _room_ , and there are no beds. Faux tents are hung everywhere, pillows and rugs and things even students can manage. Neville’s in the center of it, and Dennis...

Dennis is under him. 

Dennis is crushed beneath his idol, pinned to the floor by all of the seventh year’s weight, the warmth and the muscles and the non-uniform button-up and sweatervest. Typical _Neville_ attire. Dennis had no idea _sweatervests_ could look so damn good. They’re warm, too. Between that and the thick duvet below, Dennis isn’t nearly as cold as the unfit, stone room should leave him. 

Neville stirs. Just a little twitch, a memory, maybe: the remnants of a torture session masked as ‘detention.’ Dennis makes a cooing noise and nuzzles against Neville’s face, whispering, “It’s okay, _it’s okay_ ,” through the darkness. If other students are awake to hear, they’ll understand. Dumbledore’s Army is a ragtag mat of _survivors_.

Somewhere across the room, Colin—another Muggle-born with no choice, a brother Dennis always admired—is sleeping soundly. He’s probably wishing Harry were here, Harry Potter, everyone’s hero. So devoted. But Dennis thinks, no, now knows, that Neville’s the better choice. Neville stayed for them. Neville protects them, day in and day out, fights for them, defends them, knows who Dennis is. He spares second glances that Harry never did. Colin can keep Harry. Neville is the one Dennis wants, the one Dennis looks up to. Neville is their leader: everything. 

Neville stirs again, and this time, he jerks away, hissing in pain. Dennis doesn’t need to see more than the faint outline of his face to know that it’s scrunched up in pain. Dennis reaches to brush brown bangs aside, shushing Neville down again. They’re safe, here. He wraps his other arm around Neville’s broad shoulders, too small to make the full distance. They’re okay. They’re okay. 

Neville mumbles, voice thick through clinging sleep, “Sorry... didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.” He lifts up on his elbow, rubbing at his tired face, but Dennis can still feel him hovering. Dennis holds onto his shirt just in case he tries to leave. 

Dennis insists just as quiet, “No, I like it.” He can feel Neville pause, wonder. “It’s cold in here, and you’re warm and... and it makes me feel protected.” He clings. He’s no better than Colin, really: worshipping the mortal gods.

He can’t see the kiss until it’s come, soft lips pressing into his. Dennis kisses back, not-yet-morning breath and all. It’s something reassuring, sweet. Neville does everything sweet, even with all his power. He could crush Dennis into the stone, grind into him, fuck him right in the middle of them all; Dennis would croon and take it and _love_ it. But that’s for another time, in a hidden alcove with pretty words and promises. Maybe still crushing, grinding, loving.

For now, Neville needs to sleep. Heroes need their rest. He kisses the side of Dennis’ face and snuggles back down, warm breath on Dennis’ neck. He rocks to sleep, sweeping Dennis with him.

Even in the midst of hell, there is this patch of _paradise_.


End file.
